Tempting
by Hat as a Madder
Summary: No, he could tickle her silly every morning at breakfast, simply wanting to see her laugh—it wasn't proper. / HIATUS
1. Amazingly Imperfect Fiendish Man

**Author's Note: **I am so terribly sorry. I promised this sequel quite a while ago but never actually got around to writing. But the end of the quarter testing rush was hell—I have a good reason. If it makes my dear readers feel any better, though, I got first honors. (=  
**ANPS: **To those of you who haven't been my 'dear readers' before, you'll have no idea how this story came about. To read the first fanfiction in this series of sorts, go to my profile. The name is "Rhett's Return."  
**ANPPS: **This chapter is just an exposition—sorry. I'll try to keep it from being too rambling, as my expositions sadly tend to be, and I hope it's informative and entertaining—it certainly has fluff abound, though not quite as obvious as there's no dialogue. Please don't let the lack of speech discourage you—I promise in latter chapters it'll be quite prevalent. Dear readers, enjoy!

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Katie Scarlett O'Hara—no, Hamilton—no, soon-to-be Butler—glanced down at the ring on her finger with a smile playing at her lips. It was a petite little thing, a simple gold band that meant so much. She'd wanted a large, gaudy ring, and Rhett had informed her she'd have it. However, he intended on giving it to her at the wedding ceremony—much more romantic, he'd said. Scarlett had pouted and Rhett had settled on giving her a teaser—a slender, elegant circle that reminded her everyday how wonderful life could be. She couldn't wear it, though. She kept it by her bed, sliding it on at night when she was feeling particularly sentimental.

She shook herself slightly. Why, they'd only been engaged for a month or so! Rhett had surreptitiously been providing for Tara behind the prying eyes of Mammy and the others. They hadn't told anyone of their engagement just yet. His presence in their home was simply one of the many lost soldiers that they frequently housed. Rhett was all for shouting their betrothal to the world but the newfound affection in Scarlett's heart wouldn't allow her to spring her supposedly sudden change of feelings (in truth, they had been growing since before the war—Scarlett didn't think anyone, except maybe Melly, had noticed her fondness of Rhett) on the world. She intended to brainstorm a way to tell the others gently of her love and impending marriage.

However, there was the matter of Rhett Butler himself. He was too devilishly infuriating and delightfully romantic for her to contain herself at times. She'd chastised herself one morning after Wade asked her why she was staring at Rhett. Scarlett, the fickle belle of Clayton County, making eyes someone! The very idea was frightening. Then again, so many things were frightening about love—real love, not the infatuation that had so consumed her previously.

It was a pleasant kind of fright, however. Not fright at all, really—more like anxious anticipation. It was like when Scarlett was a girl, hoping desperately for Christmas but fearing that her gifts may disappoint her. Scarlett had no fear of Rhett disappointing her—she looked almost wistfully toward the wall, picturing Rhett in his room adjacent to hers—but she was nervous as to how others would react. She was nervous, too, about fully devoting herself to someone—giving and receiving equally, not whipping around a beau such as she had done so many times before.

A slight snore from the next room made her grin and her fears instantly vanished for the time being. He was her Rhett Butler, damn it, and she loved him. He loved her, too—though he didn't tell her every moment of every day, such as the heroes of romances did, it seemed every utterance was a declaration of love, every touch a caress. Scarlett rolled her eyes at herself. She made it sound as though Rhett was a sappy fool. He certainly wasn't.

He was brazen and reckless and tempting—oh, so tempting—so much that Scarlett's self control (and, as a result, temper) were almost at the breaking point. Her plans of quietly contemplating how to reveal her engagement were almost thwarted by Rhett's continual advancements… No, he most definitely could not sleep in her room—they weren't married! No, he could tickle her silly every morning at breakfast, simply wanting to see her laugh—it wasn't proper. No, he couldn't kiss her in front of everyone—the 'just friends' they were portraying unquestionably didn't do that.

But that didn't stop Rhett Butler…

Rhett had requested they sleep together—oh, no, not like that; even Rhett respected her that much—just so that he could hold her. She'd told him no, of course, but every night as she left to go to her room he gave her a hopeful glance that was positively hilarious. He was insufferable—but she still gave him a peck on the cheek each time.

One morning, as she bent over to get the sack of coffee that 'mysteriously' wasn't ground-up acorns anymore, he tickled her waist, and her giggles belayed the stern look she gave him. Melly looked at them, pondering, but the others took no notice, luckily.

Another thing Scarlett was grateful the others didn't notice was Rhett's bold attempt to kiss her as she mended her stockings one uncharacteristically lazy evening. Perched on her chair, she was chewing on her lip in frustration at her missed stitch. Her lips, she decided, must've been too much for her lusty fiancé. While Mammy's head was thankfully turned, talking to little Wade, Scarlett felt a prickly mustache graze her face. She almost yielded, but a tiny cough from Melanie jolted her back. She hurriedly pushed a smirking Rhett back to where he was reading a newspaper just before Mammy's head turned back towards them.

She couldn't go until everyone knew of their engagement without his kisses, though. That first kiss had spawned a sort of addiction. She felt guilty for unladylike behavior but the pleasure overshadowed this quickly. Each night, while the others were in bed, Scarlett would sneak into Rhett's room where he sat, cigar in hand, with an expectant smile on his face.

He would purse his lips arrogantly, the picture of confidence, so Scarlett would, of course, have to accuse him of taking liberties. He'd rebut with that Scarlett had come into his room in the first place, to which Scarlett would invariably reply she had come to discuss things. Their almost-but-not-quite-argument, which Scarlett refused to downplay by calling 'banter,' would continue until such a time that Rhett's cigar was finished and Scarlett felt, with all of her rebuttals, she had earned a good kiss.

Rhett would apologize—in the amazingly sweet manner he hid from all others—for his forward ways. Scarlett would laugh and taunt affectionately before Mr. Polite gave up on romanticism and simply crashed his lips onto hers. She would pull away far too soon and Rhett would reluctantly remove his lips, settling Scarlett on his lap so that they could simply talk.

They talked of so many things. They spoke of things Scarlett wasn't very interested in, like the Reconstruction and government. They spoke of things Rhett didn't particularly care about, such as cotton planting and rain. They spoke of money and Tara, planning the announcement of their betrothal. They informed each other of daily exploits that had occurred while Rhett was away in Jonesboro getting supplies. Scarlett told Rhett amusing little things that had happened, like how the sow had cornered Prissy thrice in a row that morning. Rhett would tell Scarlett scandalous stories that she pretended not to enjoy, though he saw right through her.

When Scarlett's yawns became excessive, Rhett would offer his bed, holding onto the futile hope that, for once, a hypocritically-pious Scarlett might not decline. She always laughingly shook her head, heading to her own room after giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Much as her confession of love had changed her nightly routines, it had changed her relationships with even those other than Rhett. Realizing she wasn't all alone to fight for herself in the world, others became much more important to her. She was growing quite fond of her son, finding herself with a surprised sort of pride when she caught her little boy doing something unconsciously sweet or brave. Wade seemed to be relishing in his mother's affection. Scarlett felt guilty that he had been so love-starved on her part but she knew he hadn't had too dreadful of a time since Melanie's overflowing love had her constantly petting him.

Melanie. Oh, Melanie. Sweet, kind, gentle Melly. Scarlett observed Melanie's never-ceasing loyalty to everyone, Scarlett above all others, with a happy sort of amazement. Without her petty obsession with Ashley in the way, she could appreciate Melanie all the more. Guilty for judging the woman that was truly wonderful, Scarlett intended on returning Melanie's sisterly love in full. She found, all things aside, this wasn't difficult at all.

Where before she shied away from Melanie's coddling, Scarlett found herself doing the same: patting frail little Melly's chestnut hair as she passed in a sort of innate display of friendship and camaraderie. They were becoming quite close rather quickly, much to the surprise of the household and Scarlett herself. Melanie, she supposed, had an inherent aurora of friendliness about her that no one could resist.

Rhett, laughingly, gave her much grief over this. If she could change so drastically as to coddle Melanie, no one should be surprised of their engagement. Scarlett, still, couldn't wrap her narrow mind around people being anything but judgemental. Rhett tried his best, however. Each time he kissed her, she was tempted to yell to the world that she loved this amazingly imperfectly fiendish man. If only Rhett wasn't so damn tempting.

But, Scarlett mused, if he wasn't so damn tempting, he wouldn't be Rhett Butler at all.

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**Author's Note: **Review, please, and let me know what you think of my little exposition. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Again, I apologize for its lateness and the utter lack of dialogue. I promise, I'll be better in future chapters.


	2. Ridiculously Shameful Position

**Author's Note: **Even the first time I read GWTW, I hoped for a Scarlett/Melanie kinship. I was so happy I could establish that both in the last chapter and this one.  
**ANPS: **Mr. Microsoft Word Paperclip Guy says that 'Charlestonian' is misspelled. Is it a word, like I thought, or am I merely being stubborn against my failure at spelling?  
**ANPPS: **I swear, when people say reading affects your writing, they're serious. I actually typed, "Such sweet rapture from thy presence doth come forth," while writing this story. You'll notice I had to change it to more modern English, though I am rather proud of my accidental attempt at Shakespearian prose. (Actually, I really was quite amazed that I typed it up and didn't notice until around twenty seconds later. Rhett accidentally turned into an uncharacteristically love-struck Mercutio for a moment until I recalled this was the Civil War era and, despite his acting abilities, he wouldn't pretend to be from way back when.)

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"Scarlett, dear," Melanie said with an odd sort of smile. It wasn't an odd expression, per se; it was just seldom seen on such a face. Melly was obviously suppressing her laughter, though true joy was also present. Melanie Wilkes wasn't one to hold in happy emotion—that's what made the small smile so strange.

"Yes, Melly?" Scarlett asked. She wondered what on earth she was up to. Everyone else, except Rhett, of course, was already asleep. Melly had timidly knocked on Scarlett's door just before she'd set out to meet Rhett. Thank God Melanie had found her before she left. If she'd missed her, even by a second, that would've been—Scarlett didn't care to ponder this.

"I don't mean to pry," Melanie began, looking every bit as though she was anxious to do just that; even more bizarre. "But I…" She shivered a bit in the chilly air. Scarlett hadn't lit the hall fire that night and the fall air was invading. But still, Melly had that same expression—why, it was almost a smirk!—as she sat on the side of the bed.

Scarlett sat down next to her, draping a quilt across both of their laps. A smile played on her lips as she remarked, "You look as though you're the cat who's caught the canary."

"I'm just so happy for you!" Melanie said vaguely. Scarlett glanced sharply at her, wondering what she knew. Noting this, Melanie continued, "Now, dear, calm down. Don't get defensive. I know how much you loved dear Charlie. I'm glad, though, that you've moved on; you're so young and vibrant, Scarlett—especially to a man who loves you so much as Captain Butler does."

"What did—how do you—Oh, Melly!" Scarlett stuttered, eyes wide. What if Melly had told—well, told anyone, really—Mammy? Oh, Scarlett would never have thought she was so obvious as to display her improper fondness to the world.

"Don't worry, dear, I haven't told anyone," Melanie said hastily. She told her husband everything, but Scarlett, her sister, would always be first in her heart—Ashley could wait along with everyone else. "I assumed you'd want to make an announcement."

"Oh, yes, thank you," Scarlett said distractedly before she posed the question she was so desperate to ask. "Am I—are we—really so obvious as all that?"

"Oh, Scarlett, no! Why, not even your Mammy suspects anything," Melly assured her, patting her hand. "I just know you so well, dear. You look at him ever-so-fondly, though I can tell you're trying not to let us catch on. And he loves you, too; the way he watches you with such devotion, Scarlett! And then, of course, when he tried to kiss you during sewing the other day—oh, but it was quite exciting!" Melanie exclaimed, looking happily abashed. "But then little Wade had to run along, so I must have warned you before Mammy could turn."

Against her will, Scarlett's face relaxed into a dreamy smile. "Yes, Rhett—Captain Butler, I mean—is quite… rash. I felt sure someone would see, and then you saved us. Oh, thank you, Melly, and I'm so happy!" Scarlett exclaimed, kissing her friend on the cheek. She and Melanie giggled the carefree loving laugh neither had done since before the war, and certainly never with each other. Quite uncharacteristically, though it was becoming more and more a part of her, Scarlett was amazingly lighthearted and happy.

"But, dear, I must ask," Melly began gravely, her eyes alight with concern for her friend and proprieties, "has he—if it isn't terribly too nosy of me—has he proposed? Scarlett, I admire his blockading, certainly, but if he's one to take liberties, as I've heard, I don't want you to get hurt."

"Oh, Melly, fiddle-dee-dee!" Scarlett said, laughing at her friend's seriousness. "But yes, he's proposed. We're planning how to tell everyone—actually, I'm planning; he just wants to shout it to the world. Honestly, he's so enthusiastic about the whole thing, it's hardly proper."

"He loves you," Melanie said simply, hugging Scarlett fondly. "Scarlett, dear, I've gotten a letter I must show you!"

"What is it?" Scarlett asked, wondering who on earth would write. Ashley's letters hadn't come for the longest time; he was coming home, they assumed.

"It's from Ashley!" Melanie exclaimed. Scarlett wasn't surprised any longer by her strictly platonic interest, and she nodded for Melly to continue, happy for her. "He says he's coming home! 'Melanie, I write from a small town en route to Jonesboro. From the directions of a kind former officer, I shall arrive at Tara, where I've gleaned you are staying, on the third of October, assuming my pace is steady.' Oh, Scarlett, that's this week! The third is only two days from now!"

"You've been bursting to tell me this, haven't you, dear?" Scarlett said, embracing the joyous woman who was her closest female friend. "I'll bet my affections were just a ploy to be on the subject of love," she teased and Melly laughed outright.

Their peals of mirth were interrupted by Melanie's yawn. She wasn't accustomed to late-night activities like Scarlett was. She sent the drowsy Melly on her way and, as soon as Scarlett heard her close the door, hastened to Rhett's room.

"Is it proper to enter an unmarried man's room, as an unmarried woman yourself, at this time of night?" an amused voice inquired from across the room. "Now, I've never set much store by the rules but certainly my Charlestonian upbringing has taught me this much."

"Oh, Rhett, how you do run on," Scarlett said, amused by his antics. So he decides to play gentleman after luring her into his room every night with his very ungentlemanly ways, the mannerisms and personality that made her love him? Scarlett could certainly play along. "I'm afraid I've forgotten myself. I'm terribly sorry; I'll go, now, since you don't want me." She took a tentative step towards the door.

"It's not proper to call a gentleman who is not a close acquaintance, from childhood, perhaps, or your husband, by anything other than their proper title," Rhett chastised, rising from his chair. "You, my dear Mrs. Hamilton, should not be calling me Rhett."

Scarlett turned to face him as he strode towards her. "You, Captain Butler, are not a gentleman," she said, flipping her hair haughtily. She strained to keep the smile off of her face. "Besides, you, though you may call me Misses, cannot add 'my dear' simply because you feel the need to take liberties with a lady with whom you have no standing relationship."

"Ah, Mrs. Hamilton, my standing relationship is only my ever-lingering affection," he replied silkily, tickling her waist. Against her will, Scarlett laughed.

"If you intend on behaving in such a brutish manner, I'm afraid I shall have to go," said Scarlett, stepping nimbly away from his hands to avoid yet another laugh and thus break in character. She reached for the door and made it as far as to have her hand on the knob before Rhett intervened.

He took both of her hands in his own and pressed them to his lips, acting every bit the role of an impassioned beau confessing love for the first time. "My dear, dear, dear Mrs. Hamilton, I pray you forgive me for my roguish ways," he said, dropping down on his knees but keeping his face amazing devoid of his mocking smirk. He certainly had a talent for masking his emotions. Scarlett supposed this came in handy during poker games. Gerald would certainly approve.

"Why, Captain Butler, I really cannot forgive such an offense unless you had just cause for your zeal," Scarlett said, daintily attempting to withdraw her both of her hands from his one.

"Ah, sweet rapture forces me to commit those offenses," Rhett said, looking up at Scarlett in apparent worship. "For I love you, darling Mrs. Hamilton, and being in your lovely and loving presence makes me act all the more ardent. Please, forgive me, and allow me to speak your sweet name on my sorry lips—Scarlett."

"I'm afraid I cannot permit you to call me by anything but my proper title, good sir," Scarlett said, containing a smile with difficulty. "For, while I am flattered by your affection, I must not lead you on by pretending to feel likewise."

"Then I shall, forevermore, attempt to woo you," Rhett said in mock determination. A smile graced Scarlett's lips despite herself. She quickly wiped it off, however, and continued their improvising play.

"How, kind sir, do you intend on performing that difficult feat?" she requested of him, batting her eyelashes sweetly. "For, I assure you, it will be difficult. I wouldn't want to give you false pretenses—false hope."

"Oh?" said Rhett, looking utterly crestfallen. "Why, dear Scarlett?"

"Mrs. Hamilton," she corrected coquettishly. "I'm sorry to say I'm already smitten with another."

"Pray tell," Rhett replied, hanging on her every word.

"He is, I'm afraid to say, quite brutish at times," she informed him. "He's rather roguish in an endearing way and refuses to take no for an answer. He is witty and funny, amazingly sweet at times, but he has a temper. All in all, he's a man no woman should love, yet my stupidly stubborn heart, as much as I fight it, continues to care."

"He's a very lucky man, I'm sure," said Rhett, his face softening, "to have such a passionate, headstrong, much-too-smart-than-proper woman to have his heart so completely."

"Yes," Scarlett said. "He is very lucky to have won, without my knowledge or consent, my affections. God knows how he did it."

"Perhaps," suggested Rhett, "he swept you off your feet as I am trying to do now. A kiss?"

"I couldn't, Captain Butler, I simply won't!" Scarlett said, a defiant hand placed on her hip.

"That is a very unladylike gesture," Rhett remarked and Scarlett blushed. "I don't mind," he amended, taking a step toward her. "Now purse your lips like a good actress."

"I don't believe my character—I, I mean—would let this malevolent stranger take any liberties," Scarlett said with a smirk, taking a step back.

"Malevolent, now, am I?" Rhett asked, equally her step. His strides, however, were longer, so they found themselves with noses touching. "I don't believe I merit the term."

"Attempting to kiss a girl who's just told you she prefers another," Scarlett reminded him a bit breathily, hyper-aware of their close contact.

"Merely attempting?" Rhett smirked, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers. She melted immediately.

After they broke apart, Rhett asked, "So who was this mysterious cad you so desire?"

"I believe I'll simply bask in the compliments you've given me," Scarlett said, smiling innocently, "and leave that to another night." She took a single step towards the door, waving airily behind her. Rhett caught her wrist and kissed it. "Now, Rhett, that's hardly helpful to my exit."

"I'm Rhett, now, am I, Mrs. Hamilton?" he asked with a grin.

"You may call me whatever you wish, darling," Scarlett said warily. "But I'm going to bed."

"Mrs. Butler, then," he said and Scarlett could tell he was trying to control a beam so as to seem noncommittal.

"I much prefer Scarlett," she replied. She knew she should leave, as tired as she was, but his lips felt so nice.

"As do I," Rhett admitted, his lips moving up her arm. Scarlett shivered and Rhett chuckled softly. "Why not? I'll wake you early enough for no one to notice and you're certainly not going to be doing anything improper, since your self-control obviously surpasses mine."

"You'll not give this up, will you?" Scarlett asked, smiling through her yawn.

"No," Rhett replied simply. "But you're too damn stubborn—"

"Fine," Scarlett interrupted, in no mood to argue. "But, Rhett Butler, so help me, if you try just _once_ to—to—you know what."

"Such technical terms, Scarlett, I'm surprised," Rhett said with a chuckle. Scarlett, feeling unladylike but annoyed, stuck out her tongue at him. Rhett picked her up bodily and placed her in his bed with a jaunty grin.

"Now, Rhett," she began, but he rolled his eyes. "Honestly, though, what's the point, if you're not going to do anything?"

"I love you, Scarlett," he said, climbing in next to her. "Good night."

"Sweet dreams," said Scarlett absentmindedly. "But, really…"

Rhett wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer so that her head was on his chest. "I wanted to hold you, and, as there's no dancing late at night that won't wake up the family you so preciously guard from the slander of our engagement, I decided this would do—however, did I not know your willful ways so well…" he trailed off, leering at her suggestively. Scarlett rolled her eyes, utterly and unfeminine-ly unabashed.

"Go to sleep, Rhett," she said, following her own advice and closing her eyes. She felt something inexplicably pleasant tickle her hair. A kiss, perhaps? She snuggled closer to him, wondering why she'd ever even thought this could be anything but wonderful. She'd spent nights with a man before, but never had she been so superbly happy simply being next to—well, if she wanted to get technical, she was mostly on top of him—a man.

"I love you, Rhett," she said, tentatively placing a hand on his chest.

"I love you, Scarlett," he replied, pulling her closer and burying his face in her hair. Soon after, she heard the soft snores that meant he was asleep, but she herself lied awake for a few minutes after, enjoying the ridiculously shameful position she was in.


	3. Foolish Ashley

**Author's Note: **I hope you like reading this, dears.

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Scarlett awoke quite early, disoriented by her surroundings. What was she lying on that was so warm and hard but soft and… Rhett!

"Rhett, you cad, get up!" she said in his ear urgently.

"What, my pet?" he asked groggily.

"Oh, how am I supposed to get out of here without anyone noticing? They'll be up soon, and even if they aren't they'll hear the doors!" she said, obviously imploring his help. "And you, you bastard, this is your fault! If you hadn't lured me in here in the first place—"

"Lured you in here?" laughed Rhett. "But this temper is more of the Scarlett I know. I was beginning to fear the affectionate Scarlett had extinguished the angry one completely. Though, I confess, I like the loving one much more."

"Yes, lured me!" she exclaimed, eyes sparkling. "But I'm certain I don't know what you mean."

"You've been so pleasant lately, darling," Rhett informed her. "It was heaven. You haven't told me to go to Hell once since I proposed, and you've even been acting kindly towards the esteemed Mrs. Wilkes."

"Well, go to Hell, then," Scarlett said haughtily. "I'm sorry my happiness has offended you. It's just that I've never been in love before, and it's nice to have all the important things I want... But I'm gushing, now, and making a fool of myself. Anyway, I just know we'll get caught, and what'll Melly do then, especially after last night? Yes, I've been kind to her; she's the only woman besides my Mammy and my mother who's ever truly loved me. I can appreciat her, though she's stilly a ninny at times, now that foolish Ashley's out of the way…"

"While I love to discuss Ashley Wilkes' foolishness," Rhett said, petting her hair in an attempt to calm her. "What, pray tell, did you and his wife discuss last night?"

"You! You're being so obvious!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in a most unladylike gesture. "Why, Melly knew exactly what was going on, just from the way you acted towards me! So much for keeping this a secret, Rhett Butler."

"I'm sure your dove-eyes at me didn't tip her off a bit, love," Rhett chuckled at her. "But why should we keep it secret?"

"Because, Rhett, why, I'm sure we'll—yes, I don't know, but we can," Scarlett said, stuttering, which made her all the more angry. "Well, fine, then, we'll tell everyone. But let's wait and do it all at once. Ashley's coming home in a few days, more or less."

"Ashley," Rhett said, jaw tightening before he smoothed his face. "We wouldn't want him to lose a chance to woo you right out of our engagement. If we haven't announced it yet, you'll have no trouble in claiming it never was, should the gentleman convince you I'm a scoundrel once more."

"Oh, Rhett, I think you're jealous," Scarlett said, recovering her good humor as she taunted him. "But, really, dear, Ashley won't be able to convince me you're a scoundrel. I already know that."

"And you, madam, are no innocent little belle," he remarked with a loving smile.

"God's nightgown, Rhett! How dare you imply that I'm—that I—oh, you're just a cad," she said, smacking his hands away from where they were playing in her hair.

"You kiss a man who is not your husband every night," he said with a leering grin.

"You're my fiancé!" replied Scarlett, though that still wasn't a proper excuse and she knew it. Blushing, she turned away from him but he, laughing, pretended not to hear her exclamation.

"Not to mention the fact that you spent an entire night in my arms," he said, but he caressed the words so that, rather than an accusation, they were thanks.

"Oh, Rhett, do keep your voice down," she chided, remembering herself when she heard waddling footsteps coming ever-nearer.

"My dear," he said, his eyes sparkling as he relished in the utter wrongness of the situation, "I believe your Mammy is coming to call on you."

"Oh, Rhett, what shall I do?" Scarlett whispered, panicking now. She could take the scorn of all of Atlanta when she came out of mourning but there was no way she could endure Mammy's chastising for so great an offense. "I know she heard my voice!"

"Yes," Rhett agreed. "That's why she's coming. As to what you'll do, my pet, I believe we'll have to decide when time comes. She may be on another errand altogether."

"We'er's mah lamb?" called a much-too-familiar-and-upset voice. Scarlett childishly grabbed Rhett's arm when the footsteps came closer to Rhett's door. "Miss Scarlett, I done heard yer voice in heah and Miss Ellen's gone and tuhned in her grave fer it. 'What you let my Katie Scarlett do?' she ask me. Well, Mist' Butler, and I knows you's in d'er too, ah seen plenty o' menfolk in mah time and you's a-go'n let me in for mah baby."

"Quick, under the bed," Rhett said under his breath. Scarlett looked angrily at him but, realizing she had no other option, quickly obliged. "Mammy?" Rhett called, feigning innocence and struggling to keep mirth out of his voice. "I assure you, I've not heard from Scarlett since yesterday at dinner. Perhaps she's in the fields again?"

"Yeh expect me teh believe you after yer reputation?" Mammy asked indignantly. "Now, you's a-go'n open dat door or ah is go'n do it fer you."

Rhett gave Scarlett a look that made her smile and work to stifle her giggles. He strolled over to the door and opened it with a flourish. "I'm terribly sorry; but I think you must've simply heard me saying my prayers. I am quite alone, as you can see."

Mammy held up a silencing finger and stepped in the door, peering intently about the room. "Well, ah don' see her," she said finally, her round face looking into Rhett's. "Ah shouldn' o' even thought it. I done raised Miss Scarlett an' she done some thangs I ain' proud o', but she ain' no hussy."

"I quite agree, ma'am," Rhett said, bowing his head and offering the door. "Your Scarlett is a fine woman indeed." At this very out-of-character statement, Mammy glanced sharply up at Rhett. Missing the laughter and seeing only frank admiration in his eyes, she scolded him.

"It ain' proper to speak so openly 'bout a woman, Mist' Butler," she chastised. It was Mammy's duty to scold and enforce the manners of everyone who crossed her threshold. "Men ain' s'posed ter admire womenfolk, they's jus' s'posed teh respect them. It ain' fittin'." Rhett bowed, muttered an apology, and Mammy shuffled away looking satisfied.

"That's quite an accomplishment, you know," Scarlett noted, trying to nonchalantly smooth her dress as though nothing had happened. "Mammy's already taken you under her wing. I suppose once you've lived here a month, it's a given, though."

"Yes, that was quite an interesting lesson," Rhett said, eying Scarlett with a grin. "However, I do admire you, despite what society may say."

Scarlett reddened and Rhett laughed outright. "Hush!" Scarlett scolded. "Now, what am I to do? I'm supposed to be in the fields, now, apparently, so I can't amble into the kitchen from the other direction."

"Sneak out the back," suggested Rhett simply.

"What if I run into someone?" Scarlett inquired.

"You'll never know unless you try," he said roguishly, kissing her cheek for much longer than was proper in lieu of goodbye.

"Goodbye, Rhett," she said, stepping nimbly across the hall into her room to dress. She made her way out the back and rubbed a bit of clay on the hem of her dress, feeling stupid but successful. She walked into the kitchen and bid a cheerful good morning to all of them.

"Morning, mother," Wade said from beside Melanie. Suellen and Careen muttered hellos and Mammy nodded at her from where she stood in front of the frying pan. "Prissy and Pork are getting potatoes, mother!"

"That's lovely, Wade," Scarlett said, proud of herself for her display of affection when she gave him a peck on the cheek. She always loved her child, but she was improving at displaying it and recognizing that the fierce protectiveness she felt throughout the Atlanta burning and Yankee visit was, in fact, maternal affection.

"How did you sleep, dear?" asked Melanie when Scarlett sat down next to her.

"Perfectly well, thank you," Scarlett said, ignoring Rhett's mirthful look. The sound of hooves made her jump and then sigh. "Oh, not more soldiers again. I swear we've housed more of them than I can stand!"

"Scarlett," said Melly reproachfully. She was satisfied by Scarlett's apologetic look, not seeing through it the way most would. "I'll have to go see who it is."

She rose from the table, wiping her hands on her apron and walking swiftly to greet her Glorious Cause's hero. Scarlett couldn't help but dislike the soldiers who were little better than beggars. True, since Rhett had begun caring for them they hadn't struggled for money. But in the country, they were basically stranded away from food sources so they had nothing to buy with their money.

Scarlett heard Melanie's scream from where she sat and immediately rose, her eyes meeting Rhett's in sheer terror. He walked swiftly away, obviously trying not to alarm Wade, who was clutching Scarlett's skirts, utterly terrified.

"Be a little man, Wade Hampton," Scarlett snapped, though with less venom than she would formerly have done. "Stay here with Mammy, dear."

Scarlett, too, began running outside. Something caught her arm and her shout caught in her throat when she saw Rhett. "It's only Ashley, sweet, calm down," he murmured. She glanced outside; shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she saw a golden-haired man in a faded Confederate uniform. She leaned into Rhett, breathing heavily. He stroked her hair trying to quell her fright. She remembered herself and straightened up, walking into the kitchen to tell the rest what had happened.

"It's just Ashley, dears," she informed the kitchen. Mammy, Suellen, Careen, and Prissy and Pork, who had wandered in in the meantime, let out a sigh of relief. Wade, a scared four year old, though, ran to Rhett's side.

"Uncle Rhett, is mother just saying that so we won't be scared?" he begged, looking up at the only father figure he'd known.

"Wade Hampton Hamilton!" Scarlett exclaimed, but Rhett brushed her off.

"No, Wade, she's not," he said, careful not to be condescending. "Your Aunt Melanie was just surprised to see Uncle Ashley." Wade nodded gravely, feeling important at being talked to so seriously by an adult.

"When is everyone going to know I'm going to be his stepfather?" Rhett whispered in Scarlett's ear. "Ashley's here, now, darling."

Scarlett shivered, but not unpleasantly. "Rhett, you're lucky no one saw," she chided. She gave up on prolonging her time before everyone began talking about her engagement. "Dinner, today, Rhett—are you happy?"

"Very," he said with laughter in his eyes as he anticipated their reactions.

"You're a brute," she informed him, albeit happily. She was really going to marry this man!

"That means the world, coming from you," he replied silkily. When he made sure everyone's back was turned, he pressed a velvet kiss on her palm. Scarlett stammered and jerked her hand away.

"Honestly, Rhett!" she said, failing to hide a grin.


	4. Almost Backed Down

**Author's Note: **I am _so, so, so, so, so sorry_ about not updating. I hadn't even noticed how long it was—I was too caught up in the hustle-and-bustle of exams, holiday shopping, knitting various items for old people, writing fanfiction for the Harry Potter category, writing my original pieces… I won't bore you with the list, but please picture me groveling for your forgiveness, dear reader. *dodges thrown tomatoes and the like*  
**ANPS: **I think I'm addicted to these little — line things that are terribly annoying to read and terribly useful to write.

Scarlett finished her meal, laying her utensils across her plate daintily. She eyed Rhett, who gave a nod with laughter in his eyes, and cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said rather loudly. Everyone turned to look at her, and she swallowed. Scarlett O'Hara wasn't going to be intimidated. "I have an announcement."

Melanie smiled encouragingly sweetly at her, already guessing what news it would be. Her hand was resting on top of Ashley's. Ashley looked completely at a loss, much like Wade, Pork, Dilcey, and Prissy. Suellen and Careen looked simply wary. Gerald was dazed and distant, as always, not truly aware of anything any longer. He'd been getting worse and worse at remembering the present. Mammy eyed Scarlett with something akin to suspicion.

"I am engaged," she informed them without preamble. "And I intend on marrying quite soon."

Several forks clattered as their owners dropped them in surprise, shock, and a bit of anger. How could Scarlett—their sole support, their mainstay, their very savior—desert them now? Careen sighed, looking downcast, but Suellen was fuming.

"To whom, dare I ask? How soon is quite soon? And how did you find the time to be courted _now_?" she questioned Scarlett, who fought a bizarre urge to laugh. This certainly was going to be enjoyable. Scarlett smiled sweetly down at her sister.

"Rhett proposed," she said, her eyes twinkling. "And I, of course, being ever-so-fond of him, as you know, said yes." She cast an inconspicuous sidelong glance at her fiancé, who, like Scarlett, was struggling not to bombard the room with peals of mirth. Scarlett placed her napkin over her mouth to conceal a grin when she saw Mammy's face.

"Now, Miss Scarlett, et ain't fittin' to mek jokes lak that," she chastised. "Especially when Cap'n Bu'ler is heah an' all. No offense t' the man but we knows you don' lak him now no more'n anyone else."

"Mammy, how impolite!" exclaimed Melanie, mouth open. This outburst drew Scarlett's gaze and she noticed Ashley for the first time since the announcement of her betrothal.

He was looking at her queerly, almost as though he was seeing through her. He met her eyes, however, and Scarlett wasn't quite sure what emotion was passing through his. It seemed to be a combination of anger, pain, and—disappointment?

"If we're all done eatin'," said Dilcey, saving the situation, "I think we'd best git t' bed."

"Thank you, Dilcey," said Scarlett gratefully. "And, Mammy, dear, it wasn't any joke. We're to be wed." She pushed her chair back from the table and stood, giving Rhett a look. He stood and wrapped an arm around her waist, doing quite a good job at concealing his amusement with the entire situation.

"I'll be a good husband to our dear Scarlett," Rhett assured them. Scarlett was the only one who noticed the glimmer in his eye. She smiled softly at him, the picture of a devoted fiancé, struggling not to laugh along with Rhett's eyes. What was so funny about the situation, she wasn't sure.

Perhaps it was the situation itself, not some specific part of it. Scarlett O'Hara—the fickle coquette—had fallen in love, confessed it, and was now to be married. A bemused smile graced her lips. "Good night, dears," she said to her family.

"Scarlett, may I speak to you before we retire for the evening?" requested Ashley, face smooth and tone inflectionless. Scarlett nodded at him, figuring she might as well get this out of the way.

Rhett looked at the exchange wearily, not allowing jealousy—openly—to mar the humor of the situation in general. He placed a chaste kiss on the back of his fiancé's hand and bid his soon-to-be-family adieu. He exited, then, though not without casting a meaningful glance at Scarlett, who was already helping Melanie clear the table. She'd tell him about the exchange that night; it was stupid to be jealous, so he fought it, though even the surefire Rhett Butler couldn't deny that Scarlett had charms every man was susceptible to that made he himself rather wary.

* * *

"Good evening, Scarlett," said Ashley as she joined him in the parlor. The rest of the house had gone to bed, leaving the pair finally alone on the settee.

"Good evening, Ashley," replied Scarlett uneasily. She wasn't sure how to go about the situation—her years of belle training under Ellen certainly hadn't covered this particular set of circumstances. She'd simply let Ashley lead the conversation.

"Scarlett, I—we've been friends for years, now and—I can't stand to," he said nervously. "Oh, I won't beat around the bush any longer. Scarlett, how can you marry that man?"

"I love him, Ashley," responded Scarlett confidently. "And, I apologize, but it is none of your concern."

"It is my concern more than anyone else's. You know that I love you, Scarlett," retorted Ashley, fidgeting and playing with the fraying knee of his trousers. "And I simply can't stand to see you marry such a heathen. I won't have it. He'll tarnish you, Scarlett, mar your beauty."

"You won't have it, Ashley Wilkes?" asked Scarlett indignantly. "After all of this time, you finally decide to be a man and stand up for what you feel, and I bet you're pretty proud of yourself, thinking I'm eternally grateful and smitten and you're some big masculine hero who has rescued his unwitting damsel from distress."

Ashley stopped squirming and looked sharply up at her, but Scarlett paid this no heed. She was releasing the pent-up annoyance that had been eating at her ever since that fateful day in the former cotton fields of Tara when she'd had her epiphany of sorts.

"And he most certainly will not _mar_ me, Ashley, although the beauty is something that really defines me to you, isn't it?" she continued, looking crossly at his confused expression. "You claim you love me. You play tragic hero and are forced to stay with your wife and never touch me, though you love me oh-so-dearly. Well, what do you love, Ashley? Is it my face or my body? It's certainly not me. And Melly deserves better, damn you!"

He gaped at her. "Scarlett, your mind is more beautiful—"

"Don't you go on about my _mind_'s pulchritude, Ashley Wilkes! I'm appalled at you!"

Ashley—constantly cool, collected Ashley—seemed to finally be at his wit's end. "You're telling me, Scarlett O'Hara," he said, cringing at the thought of Scarlet Butler, "that you're appalled at my loving someone who is not my wife. Well, _Misses Hamilton_, I can't say I'm the only guilty party."

The blow stung. Scarlett almost—almost—backed down. "Ashley," she said after a moment, wearily, "I—let's not do this. I don't love you, I never did. And you don't love me."

"That's what would be best, but you're marrying this—this—abomination of a traitor, and I'm afraid I can't just sit back and watch without attempting to put a stop to it, as your father's in no condition to properly…"

"Don't bring Pa into this," she interrupted, deadly quiet, eyes snapping. "Pa loves me and he'd want me to be happy. Even though you don't love me, Ashley, I'd have thought you'd have a friendly, apathetic desire to see me content for once."

"But I _do_ love you, Scarlett," he persisted stupidly, underestimating Scarlett's temper because she'd always masked it in front of him.

"That," she said waspishly, "is your own mistaken impression. I've done my best to remedy it, but you may do as you wish. I warn you, though. If you hurt Melanie—if you so much as make her frown because of me—you'll regret it."

Scarlett wasn't sure what exactly she would do if Ashley hurt her newest and closest friend, but it most certainly wasn't an empty threat. Fiercely protective, even if she didn't realize it, a loyal Scarlett was a force to be reckoned with.

As for Ashley, she no longer felt a friendly sympathy for his confused feelings. She was, for the moment and perhaps longer, disgusted, irritated, and going to retire to her room early. She rose from the settee, not even looking at Ashley as she bade him goodnight.

**Author's Note: **'Tis a short chapter, showcasing moody!Scarlett, jealous!Rhett, and pining!Ashley all at once. It was also a bloody awful chapter, and I'm sorry that after many months of not writing it comes to this. However, as I intend to start writing this regularly, I had to get back into the swing of Gone with the Wind, even if it means starting out with a crappy post. I'm sorry, again. *begs on knees for readers to stop berating me via flames and chucked rocks*


End file.
